villagelogs | 018-020 » what he hides

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018-020 » what he hides

WHO: Everyone.
WHERE: Eastern/Central/Western Mathias.
WHEN: Days 018-020
WHAT: The fog recedes!
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. PM this account to have a warning added!
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Graham Plowman "Edge of Darkness"

DAYS 018-020
THE HIDDEN REVEALED
“Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”
— Benjamin Franklin

As the sun rises in the distance above the sea, the fog slips away from the unsettling town, winding through streets and across buildings until it is nestled soundly in the forest. There it waits, ready to snare any who dare test its limits — residents would do well to remember what happened the last time they encountered the fog so intimately.

With the fog receded, the western portion of Mathias is now revealed and available for exploring. There are more businesses on the town square and even some on the street that runs off the square. The schoolhouse is nestled by the southern treeline, not from the little makeshift cemetery at the end of Jackson Boulevard that is courtesy of a few kind residents in town. To the far north of the square is a sprawling garden, now covered in snow, and a greenhouse that once supplied the botanical shop. And to the west, beyond the square, is another residential district of the same size as that to the east. What is different, however...

These buildings are all in some form of decay. From the beginnings of rot to completely collapsed and little more than a pile of proverbial bones, none of these homes are anything resembling livable. Well, as far as one can tell, at least. For between the streets of Hill Lane and Stine road there is a crack in the earth. A dozen feet across and fifty feet down, the crack extends from one side of the forest to the other, either end cut off by the fog. The view to the other side is clear but there is no way across.

THE NEW ARRIVALS
There are quite a few new faces in Mathias on this day. Awaking throughout Day 018, they will find themselves laying in the snow beside that unsettling crack in the earth, houses both quaint and decaying surrounding them as the snow begins to cover their bodies. Best get inside and warm up, dears.

SPECTRES IN THE NIGHT
The days are short now that winter seems to have set in unseasonably early. Though the clocks in Mathias fail to properly keep time or sometimes even work at all, the sun rises around 8:00am and sets at 5:00pm. There is far more darkness than light in these days, but in that darkness there is, in fact, light.

In the distance all across Mathias, there are lanterns lit against that darkness. Their lights dance across the snow, the warm flickering shining like tiny stars and offering an almost ethereal glow to the crisp white snow. It would be a beautiful sight to behold... if it weren't for the shadowy figures that held them. With partially raised arms, the figures hold the lanterns and walk the streets of Mathias, drifting in between buildings and disappearing into the forest. Still yet, there are some that simply stand in place, as if waiting for something or someone.

No matter where or when these figures are seen, they always seem to be facing away from our residents, and attempts at reaching them are all for naught. They will fade from view if one gets too close, and return to sight when that distance is regained. And in the morning, those lanterns may be found in the snow, their lights extinguished but their glass somehow still warm.

STRANGER IN THE SNOW
Those investigating the western part of Mathias and venturing near that inexplicable crack in the earth will have the most unsettling feeling of being watched. Most of the time, there is nothing there and no one to be seen, but then—

On the other side of that expanse, sitting on a porch, in the shadow of a home, or standing in the oddly moonlit street, there is a man. His features are shrouded in darkness and not much can be discerned about him, but instinct tells you he is dangerous. There is a sense deep in your bones that he is maliciously amused.

He makes no move to speak, nor will he respond to any attempts on your part. Instead, he sits, or he stands, and he watches. By the end of Day 020, all sign of him will be gone, along with the eerie feeling of being watched.

LOCATIONS

Unless otherwise noted, all new locations have working electricity and other utilities.

BENEDICT BOOKS Nestled quaintly on the square surrounding the Town Hall, a thick layer of dirt covering the front windows. A portrait hangs at the front of the store to illustrate the namesake of the little shop... that may, in fact, not be so little. Dust covers everything in sight and detritus litters the wooden floor, as if someone left the door open and allowed half the forest inside. (more info)

MATHESON ANTIQUES Also on the town square is an antique store that is a lesson in chaos more than culture. The items within are stacked haphazardly, creating narrow aisles running throughout the space. Furniture, light fixtures, old revolutionary and civil war memorabilia, all of it is jumbled together with no rhyme or reason. Indeed, one wrong move could create an avalanche of aged wood and peeling paint.

POE'S CLOTHES Located on the town square, this shop carries only the basics. Loose jeans in a few sizes, khakis, solid color dress shirts and blouses, flannel in various styles, socks and underwear.

SPIN RIGHT ROUND RECORDS On the square across from the beauty store, the music shop is as dusty as everything else in this town has been. Tables line the walls of the long shop, filled with rows and rows of vinyl records, while a few wall shelves display cassette tapes for sale. One side of the store is for New items, while the other holds the Used section with items for resale. Residents may recognize some of the artists but many are unfamiliar to them.

CLINIC Outside the decayed, crumbling building just north of the square is a still miraculously intact sign with the name of the clinic's doctor, Dr. Ken Suzuki. There is no way to treat patients in this location, but with care, some salvageable supplies may yet be found in the remains.

BARKER BOTANICALS Not quite a flower shop and not entirely an apothecary, the botanical store to the far north of the square is something of an amalgamation of both. With a few broken windows to let in the rain, parts of the shop have been overtaken by nature, the house plants growing beyond their pots and rotted flower petals littering the floor to tell of seasons past. The still unclaimed walls are filled with decaying plants and jars of dried herbs and other vegetation, along with a few essences and tinctures.

GREENHOUSE A few dozen yards from the botanicals shop is a sprawling garden, now covered in snow, and a greenhouse that once supplied the botanical shop. The glass is still miraculously intact, though covered in grime so thick that one cannot see inside.

GALLERY The gallery is essentially a large empty space with framed and matted black and white photographs of the town lining the walls. There is a small selected of prints available for sale near the front entrance, and a few rooms at the back of the building — a dark room for developing photos, a small office, and a locked room.

MOVIE THEATER This single-screen theater is quite small, having only 40 seats, but there is a large collection of movies in its storage room. These are all old film reels however, so hopefully someone knows how to thread a film projector.

HISTORY MUSEUM Across the street from the Historical Society, this once esteemed wooden building has seen better days. Windows and doors are boarded up and there is visible rot and decay on the exterior walls. Part of the roof has fallen in and the accumulating snow threatens to collapse the rest of it as well. It is not wise to venture within.

HISTORICAL SOCIETY This brick building has also seen better days, though in a different sort of way. Where once had been carefully cataloged collections and cozy reading rooms for aficionados of local history, there are now stacks of bankers boxes and weathered tomes in every nook and cranny. There is no organization to any of it, everything seeming to have been stashed in a hurry and then left forgotten. Anyone who dares to dive into this archive will need to devote quite some time in order to find anything worthwhile. They will also want to bring their own light source — the electricity does not work here and the windows are quite dark from the accumulated dust and grime.

SCHOOLHOUSE A much smaller school than most of our residents might be used to, there are only a half-dozen rooms in the building, with a few comprising classrooms, meeting areas, and workspaces. All ages were taught here, and one might almost imagine the sound of children's whispered voices and distant laughter while within the empty building.

CONDITIONS UPDATE

— SNOW continues to fall in Mathias. Days 18-19 see light snowfall that very slowly accumulates, but the snowfall turns moderately heavy on Day 20 and sees significant accumulation. The temperature hovers just below freezing and dips lower when the sun goes down.

— VOICES are not openly haunting our residents, though they may still be occasionally encountered in the more heavily decayed buildings where some rooms seem to almost swallow whatever light tries to enter them.

— THE FOG has receded from the town proper and much of the eastern and northern beach. The path through the northern forest to the lighthouse is now also clear.

— DISAPPEARANCES continue to plague the town. While Daisy Johnson has returned, Zed Martin, Rey, and Quentin Coldwater have now vanished without a trace.

OOC UPDATES

— MADNESS has now been unlocked. Congratulations to Inky for Claire earning the first Madness! Who will be next? (Please be sure to keep your sanity updated regularly; Stars has created an amazing tracker for anyone to use if they'd like.)

— HELPERS are officially in residence! Kelly is our Registrar and Stars is our Librarian — both of these delightful members of our community are helping behind the scenes to keep things organized and updated (and doing wonders for the mod's own sanity levels), so please give them some thanks for their hard work!

— REPORTING updates is still a thing that your mod and helpers beg you to do. Changes to locations, plot notes that affect the community, and discoveries should be reported over here so these can all be noted in their appropriate places. (For clarification, reported Discoveries are not public knowledge unless a character has ICly shared this information.)

— A MAP of Mathias now exists, thanks to our wonderful Librarian! Please note that it is not to scale and there may be a few minor errors due to your frazzled mod. Expect updates in the future as more secrets are revealed.

— BULLETIN BOARD — don't forget about it. That's all.

CLAIMING AP REWARDS

Normally, only one AP reward can be claimed per log, but due to the plethora of new and old locations to explore, this restriction is being relaxed. Instead, for this log only:
— Players may spend AP on up to three rewards, though only Spot Hidden may be repeated.
— If a player is spending multiple Spot Hiddens, they must be with different characters and in different locations.

If two characters are investigating the same location together, they may each spend a Spot Hidden on that location. Players should record their spent AP after the AP request has been approved. Sometimes there is nothing to Spot with your Hidden and the points will be "refunded" to use elsewhere.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Raylan scoffed and chuckled at Dean's very passionate response.]

No strong feelin's about it then, [He joked, fingers still flipping through the last half of the records before he stood up and looked over at Dean, face full of amusement.]

I'm sure you'll find somethin' to spin 'em on. If not here, in someone's rotted attic with spare needles. Where'd you say you come from again?

[How much of The South had Dean actually experienced? Seeing it wasn't the same as experiencing it - plenty of people passed through without really getting to taste the flavors the South had to provide.]

Kansas. But, all over. We traveled when we were kids. Barely stayed in the same place more than three, four weeks at a time. Been to all 48 states. ( What he doesn't say is that his father hunted, and then when he was old enough, he hunted. And then, Sam - who left them for Stanford. And then the cycle started over when their dad up and disappeared.

Dean also doesn't fly. Yes, there are fifty. )

Did - you said you were from Harlan, Kentucky.

[Raylan hummed a note of acknowledgement, nodding his head as he stood back up, fingers hooking into the pockets of his jeans as he turns his full attention temporarily on Dean.

Kansas was great and all, but southern it was not.]

On account of the job, right? The whole continental US, not unimpressive.[Rhetorical question; he nodded again, turning to step back down the other side of the rack, ambling back to a stop across from him.]

I did. And there's plenty there that would agree with your passionate objections. Mighta been all that passion that made them less appealin' to the ear, I suppose but I rarely listen to the radio and normally just see people play live at bars. Not exactly a lotta diversity there, I will admit, but I've gotten around.

Yeah, dad's job.

( Hunting, if he didn't spell that out. He thinks he may've the last time, but maybe he didn't connect that to good old John Winchester. )

Hey, I like a good live show. Ain't it better live?

( Always. And he's seen bands live. )

You ever been to CBGB's?

[The Hunting. No, Raylan was picking up the pieces, working them together. It was only that Kansas was remarkably uninteresting.]

Always better live,[He agreed with a lift of his eyebrows and a nod.] If they're good to begin with that is.

[Glancing up from under his brim, Raylan frowned in faint confusion and shook his head.] Never heard of it. Where's it at?

New York City. It's closed down now, but, it was where you saw anyone in the seventies, eighties. Nineties even.

( How do you not know? )

Who uh, came through Harlan, Kentucky? Any good bands?

Ah. New York. Never got a chance to see the city as a civilian. Work's only brought me there a couple of times for cases, all the rest is just layovers in JFK.

[ He wasn't bothered by how that sounded. Raylan lived the job, like a lot of Marshals. The question made him smile, eyebrows curling in amusement under his brim as he looked over the record rack at Dean.]

Anyone with sense wouldn't even know it was there to come through. Google ain't even gotten around to it yet. But people come through Lexington. Mostly country singers; somehow I doubt that it's your kinda music. Patty Loveless and Roy Acuff, stuff like them. Anything that ain't country, I've likely seen in Miami or L.A.

( Dean doesn't take well to that, to flying, and he nods once to that, trying to mask the shudder that goes through his body. )

I like Patty Loveless. I'm a rock guy, but there is a time and place for good Country. My dad liked Country. ( Like Dean, not as much as he liked Rock. ) L.A.'s something else.

Really? [Color him pleasantly surprised. Raylan hummed note of passing approval as he pulled out a record - Johnny Cash if Dean caught the title.] Well, I appreciate that you're not grabbin' the pitchfork and the fuckin' our sisters or our sheep joke.

L.A might as well be a different world, you ask me. Those people wouldn't know real if it bit them in the ass.

I've been hopin' somethin' might bring some music to Mathis, even if it is just an out of date records store- [ He glanced around.] You seen anything that dates past the late nineties here?

Don't have to tell me.

( L.A. is about appearances. It's the sun-kissed sheen. )

Nothing past the mid-90's. Barely. We are somewhere in time.

Shit. Well, keeps to the timeline, I guess. Place has been here for a while, but it seems like 98', 97' maybe. Rough guess for when whatever happened, happened.

[No offence to LA but much like New Jersey, it was kinda trashy in his opinion and wasn't worth much more breath.]

You already toss this place for an office? Any indications of a state, shippin' information or anything?

( The latest vinyl in his hands is slowly brought down from in front of his face. )

May've gotten distracted.

[Raylan grinned, an expression he turned down to the racks before looking over the rest of the space.]

Probably doesn't matter anyway. Not much to find in these places that aren't.. well, goods. And this place has been pretty stingy with locations anyway - somehow I doubt that the local record store is gonna hold the magical Key.

You find the magical Key, you better tell Henry and me. And uh - the tweaker.

( The behavioral scientist. Just because he lives with you guys, right? )

Wish it was that easy.

[ Raylan's head tilted as he looked back at Dean, features pinching a little in confusion. ]

The tweaker?

You live with him. He takes too much sugar in his coffee? The profiler.

( He was itching to find something in the clinic. Maybe it's not as serious as that, but, Dean is always on hand for a rude comment if it comes to mind. It doesn't occur to him that Raylan might be fond of the kid. )

He's a lot.

[ Raylan 'ah'd, face breaking into a broad smile as he nodded. ]

I can't say he doesn't give off that kinda energy. But he means well. He's alright, once you get past the antsiness. Not his fault. Ain't the worst to have some of the silence filled, if I'm honest.

And normally, I put chatty people in trunks.

You can keep custody of Analyze This. It's not the talking that gets to me.

( It's the head shrinking he doesn't appreciate. )

... Trunks.

[Raylan shrugged with his face and a bob of his head.]

Keeps me from breakin' more noses than necessary. Resisting arrest, [He offered as an explanation with a shrug.]

Analyze This is tryin' to keep busy. You just gotta distract him with a question. This place has plenty of those to keep us all busy, if frustrated. You get much of a chance to poke around yet?

( He gets a nod at that, then. Car trunks. He respects it. And he more than understands. The trunk's not a normal move for them, but they have pulled it before. )

Not to learn anything real. ( He's done his fair share, though. ) How do you think we're supplied?

[ Raylan was glad to see that didn't get any looks or sarcastic comments. Meant Dean might be a man that would do such a thing. Good. Place like this would need them. ]

Right now my best guess? Magic. I don't know how shit works around here, can't find any municipal buildings that might help, not that it would account for the foodstuffs. They're sure as hell not sneaking in, in the middle of the night, and leaving it like elves, that's for sure.

Do you know magic that makes food?

( He knows magic that curses through food. )

Haven't seen a hex bag anywhere, and if it's not that, then it's a spell. One that's ongoing.

( Sort of like a perimeter spell, or one that's more environmental. But, he's not the apprentice. )

This is reality-warping spellwork.

Edited 2020-12-25 01:06 (UTC)

I don't know any magic. Not somethin' I got in my world. If we were there, my answers would be a lot different. Shit clearly works differently here but until about three weeks ago, I didn't know any of the shit that I've seen here was possible.

[He was a complete innocent, as they might call him.]

My degree is in Criminology and criminal law; not voodoo and black magic. I leave that to.. I suppose people like you and John. He thinks its a.. 'Lesser entity' to a god or somethin'. I don't understand much of it, but I try to keep up.

I don't know if that makes all this easier or worse, to be completely honest with ya.

Lesser deity.

( He could see that. )

Maybe with its own witch.

( Maybe he should actually knock his and John's heads together. )

It could be real where you're from. You just don't know it.

[Raylan shrugged.]

Sure, could be. In small subsections. But I'm not bending over backwards to include that into my realities world view, sorry. Maybe it doesn't exist, and you're all from just the most special of realities, who knows.

[It was going to take a lot more than Dean and John's insistence to convince Raylan that any of this stuff is real in his world.]

But arguing about realities ain't why I'm here and I'm sorely unprepared if it were.

What would you be doin' if it wasn't? Instead of huntin' since you were four, what do you think you'd be doin'?

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